disadvantage may have resulted from this change, its conveniences to the laborer are great. He has more leisure for study-he is not absent from his family-he can avail himself of local means of improvement. If the growth of these "stationed" appointments continues a few years longer, as it has been a few years past, they will compare well with the parish accommodations of the oldest denominations in the land. "Down to 1800, the receipts of each member were reported at the conference, and, after deducting his 'quarterage,' the surplus went toward equalizing as far as possible the deficit of his fellow-laborers. Even private presents, whether in clothing or money, were required to be reported and estimated in the apportionment. These self-sacrificing men were as one family in those days of privation, and what little they had, they had in common; a fact which is as noble an illustration of their character as it is a painful proof of their sufferings. At the General Conference of 1800, this rule was altered So far as to exempt private donations from the estimate. Hitherto the 'allowance' had been $64, besides traveling expenses; but the same General Conference raised it to $80, and allowed an equal amount for the wife or widow of the preacher, as also $16 for each child under seven years, and $24 for each over seven and under fourteen-no provision being made for children after the latter age. As the General Conference at which these amendments were made had just been held, we suppose the allowances reported at the present conference were rated according to the old rule. Hardly more than one-half of the members present had received the pit-seen-advantages in respect to his popularity, tance of $64. George Pickering's receipts amounted to $47; Joseph Snelling's, $88; Joshua (now Bishop) Soule's, $55; John Merrick's, $42; John Jones's, $31. "Some of the members were not only deficient in their quarterage, but in their allowance for traveling expenses. Joshua Hall's aggregate deficit was $64; Joseph Snelling's, $74; John Merrick's, $21,-no small proportion of their whole allowance. A considerable amount was eked out of subscriptions and donations, so that the aggregate deficit was reduced to $72 25. These items are not without historical significance. "Such were the men of our ministry a half-century ago, and such their pecuniary reward. The receipts for their traveling expenses' were quite small, as they usually started with the possession of a horse, and were entertained on their routes by their brethren. The actual cash received by them would not now be considered sufficient for the annual cost of clothing alone, though that expense has been reduced at least onefourth since their day. They had no resources for the purchase of books, except what they obtained by selling the denominational publications on their extended circuits." Such pecuniary privation, and the sufferings which must necessarily attend it to the laborer and his family, would, as a permanent fact, be an insupportable evil-a moral evil. There are some sections of our ministerial field where it still lingers; but almost universally has our fiscal system undergone a change, relieving its early pressure, and yet retaining enough of it to appeal to the spirit of self-denial in its ministry. Our preachers cannot accumulate money; but the greater proportion of them need hardly come short of a comfortable subsistence, and the prospect is altogether fair for a generous support, in the Atlantic conferences, within a few years. That prospect brightens every year. Similar assertions might also be made respecting what was once the most formidable inconvenience of our ministry-its "Itinerancy." With the exception of the episcopacy, the presiding eldership and the general secretaryships, this has almost ceased in the denser portions of the Church. What was once the New-England Conference is now six, or, more properly, seven conferences. Three or four districts once took in all that large territory, now there are about as many to each conference. Circuits, which once stretched over two hundred miles, are now broken into "stations." The "oldfashioned" circuit is hardly known among us any more in the eastern states. The "saddlebags are no longer the symbol of Methodist itinerancy; our cavalry is disbanded, and the war-horse is seen no more. Whatever moral * In 1816, the "allowance" of preachers, their wives and widows, was raised to $100 per annum. The amount for children was not changed. Almost the only "Itinerancy" that remains among us is the biennial changes of the ministry, and these, by the territorial diminution of the conferences, and the modern means of conveyance, have lost their most formidable inconveniences. There are advantages also to the preacher himself in these changes, as we have his pulpit resources, and the renewal of his energies, which should render them, as a general rule, decidedly desirable. While, then, we admit that there are still demands of self-denial upon those who would enter our ministry, we contend that they are not of such an extreme character as to form an insurmountable objection to the young candidate, who, while he justly wishes a comfortable support, has also the moral courage to submit to partial privations, and the good sense to see their redeeming and ennobling advantages. I have frequently referred, in this corre spondence, to the recency of some of our most important improvements. We have been reco lutionized, I have said, within twenty years, in our financial and social condition as a denomi nation. This fact tells more for the future than even for the past; it is but the beginning of a new era in our history. The mathematicians distinguish between "arithmetical" and "geometrical progression." The former is progression by addition; the latter by multiplication. Our progress must necessarily be hereafter on the latter scale; our past growth gives but the terms of a future geometrical advancement, and we may even look for changes, sudden and most thorough, for which our past advances have been but the prolonged and tedious preparation. The current, dammed up by obstructions, may slowly accumulate for days; but when the pressure reaches a given point the barriers give way, and the effect, which has been approximated only through days or weeks, is produced resistlessly and in an hour. We need but to have faith in God and in the vast opportunity he has given us, to see our cause develop itself in the next twenty years beyond any example in its history. We may well look to that period with inexpressible solicitude; it will either crown or close our history as a cardinal sect of Protestant Christendom. And let me say that the disposition with which you, our chief leaders, direct its new developments, will determine its coming fate. The wisdom that is "profitable to direct"-the sagacity that can see what changes are improvements; that can read aright the tendencies of public opinion, and discern and provide for the inevitable result-this is what our cause now demands, in its guiding men, above all other qualifications except their consecration to God. Yours, &c., A. STEVENS. Editorial A MINISTER'S WIFE. Notes and -No part of the autobiography of the late William Jay is so full of interest as the brief allusions to his wife : "How much," he says, "has resulted from this auspicious connection, for which I can never sufficiently praise the providence of my God and Father! How far I have succeeded, it does not become me to attempt to determine; but of this I am conscious, that I was always desirous and anxious to be a good husband; nothing, in my estimation and remarkings, being able to atone for the want of consistency and excellency here, especially in a minister. But I must have been one of the basest of men had I not always endeavored to act worthily toward the wife of my youth, to whom I am under so many obligations. It was she who contributed so much to give me that exalted idea of the female character which I have always entertained and expressed. She excluded perfectly the entrance of every notion and feeling of submission or authority, so that we had no rights to adjust, or duties to regulate. Her special qualities were admirably suited to my defects. She had an extemporaneous readiness which never failed her, and an intuitive decisiveness which seemed to require no deliberation. Her domestic virtues rendered my house a complete home, the abode of neatness, order, punctuality, peace, cheerfulness, comfort, and attraction. She calmed my brow when ruffled by disappointment or vexation; she encouraged me when depressed; she kept off a thousand cares, and left me free to attend to the voice of my calling. She reminded me of my engagements when I was forgetful, and stimulated me when I was remiss, and always gently enforced the present obligation, as the duty of every day required.'" A further testimony to the excellence of his wife occurs on the affecting occasion of the death of his youngest daughter. Her father was from home when she was suddenly assailed by incurable disease. He returned and found her unable to speak, or to recognize her father. He says: "I turned away, and was led by her mother into the solitude of my study. We kneeled down hand-inhand to pray; but not a word was uttered. At such a season, how poor is speech; and how surprising is it that persons should employ it, and not yield to the devotion of silence and tears! This was the first time death had entered into our indulged dwelling. Till now I knew not what it was truly to be a parent. My heart was desolate within me; and there was danger that weeping would hinder sowing. As my ministry had always been very much of a consolatory kind, I began to dread the application of the address of Eliphaz to Job: Behold, thou hast instructed many, and thou hast strengthened the weak hands; thy words have upholden him that was falling, and thou hast strengthened the feeble knees. But now it is come upon thee, and thou faintest; it toucheth thee, and thou art weary.' What in a measure prevented this? 'O woman! When pain and anguish wring the brow, As being not only her husband, but her pastor, I ought to have solaced and supported my wife under the loss, but she solaced and supported me." At length, however, this prop fails him. After thirty years of uninterrupted domestic happiness, this excellent and amiable woman was stricken with an extraordinary malady, resulting in such a prostration of mental and physical powers as rendered her, from that time forward, no longer the support of her husband in his trials, but the object of his deep solicitude and tender care. It had become her almost invariable habit to call things by names the reverse of what was right, and of what she herself intended : and Gleanings. "She spoke of a drop of bread, and a thin bit of water; she called the black white, and the white black; the cold heat, and the heat cold; preaching was hearing, and hearing was preaching; in the morning she wished you good evening, and in the evening good morning." It appears that she herself was conscious of her mistakes, but without the power to correct them. We have known of similar cases, but the solution of them is beyond our reach. They would form a physiological problem which might have exercised the ingenuity of Lord Brougham, Abercrombie, or Brodie. We must not omit the touching language in which the husband speaks of his wife in this strangely altered condition : "Now that she is become in the course of nature more infirm and dependent, she is indescribably interesting. I cannot for a moment forget what she has been, and what she has done; or be insensible of my obligations to her. She needs and she occupies much of my attention, but attention endears her the more. My affection has now infused into it an unselfish tenderness, and I have learned by experience that the happiness of love results principally from its disinterestedness. And we know who has said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'" illustrating his hyperbole with great beauty and plausibility. A lady present expressed her surprise; and as a proof that Mr. Hall had a tolerable good memory, mentioned that she had heard him preach many years ago, and she had recently heard him preach the very same sermon. Mr. Hall first admitted the fact, but denied the inference. When a particular topic presents itself to the mind, it brings with it its train of thought, mode of illustration, and even though the sermons might be the same, it did the very words in which it is clothed; so that not prove, he maintained, that he had any mem ory. He then left this ground, and insisted that the sermons were not the same, he knew they were not the same, and could not be so. Mr. Foster was sitting opposite, listening to the discussion. At length he said, "Mr. Hall, you know, do you, that the sermons were not the same?" "Yes, sir," was the reply, "they were not the same; I know they were not." "And Mr. Hall, you have no memory!" he slowly and firmly retorted. At a glance the "eloquent orator" saw where he was. His cheek flushed, his eye flashed, his lips poured forth a torrent of burning declamation. Foster sat impertarbed till the volcano was quiet; then dryly said, "You know, Mr. Hall, that the sermons were not the same." READING AND SPEAKING SERMONS.-The following, from Bishop Burnett, is apt and appropriate. He says, speaking of Great Britain: "Reading is peculiar to this nation, and is endured in no other. It has, indeed, made our sermons more exact, and so it has produced to us many volumes of the best that are extant; but, after all, though some few read so happily, pronounce so truly, and enter so entirely into those affections which they recommend, that in them we see both the correctness of reading and the seriousness of speaking sermons, yet every one is not so happy. Some, by hanging their heads perpetually over their notes, by blundering as they read, and by running over them, do so lessen the matter of their sermons, that as they are generally read with very little life or affection, so they are heard with as little regard or esteem. Those who read ought certainly to be at a little more pains, than for the most part they are, to read true, to pronounce with an emphasis, and to raise their heads, and to direct their eyes to their hearers. And if they practiced more alone the just way of reading, they might deliver their sermons with much more advantage. Man is a low sort of creature; he does not, nay, nor the greater part cannot, consider things in themselves without those little reasonings that must recommend them to their affections. That a discourse be heard with any life, it must be spoken with some; and the looks and motions of the eye do carry in them such additions to what is said, that where these do not all concur, it has not all the force upon them that otherwise it might have. Besides that, the people, who are too apt to censure the clergy, are easily carried into an obvious reflection on reading, that it is an effect of laziness. -- THE DEAD. The population of the globe is estimated at 900,000,000. It is also estimated that a number equal to the entire population of the globe, existing at any one time, passes away three times in every century. As the present population of the earth has increased from a single pair, created about sixty centuries ago, one-half of the present population might be taken as a fair estimate of the average number who have passed away during each of the one hundred and eighty periods, or thirds of centuries, during which the earth may have been inhabited, which would give 8,100,000,000 for the whole number who have lived on the earth. Allowing an average of three square feet for the burial of each person, on the supposition that one-half die in infancy, and they would cover 24,300,000,000 square feet of earth. Dividing this by 27,878,400, the number of square feet in a square mile, gives less than eight hundred and seventy-two square miles, which would afford sufficient room to bury, side by side, all who have been buried in the dust of the earth -all of whom would not suffice to cover the little state of Rhode Island. 66 EARLY RISING. The doctors are continually broaching new theories on almost every subject connected with health and longevity. There is scarely any practice or any system of dietetics, but is advocated by one party and denied as strenuously by another. Early to bed and early to rise" once seemed the embodiment of the world's wisdom. The editor of the Journal of Health proves, logically, that early rising is not only not conducive to health, but positively injurious. At sunrise, in summer, he says, the malaria which rests on the earth, when taken into the lungs and stomach, which are debili tated by long fast since supper, enters into the circulation, poisoning the blood, and laying the foundation of disease; and in winter, the same debilitated condition of the vital organs allows the blood to be chilled. Dr. Hall's idea will be a very consoling one to many. BACHELORS AND MARRIED MEN.-The celebrated Dr. Gaspar, of Berlin, estimates the mortality among bachelors, between the ages of 27 and 45, at 27 per cent.; while the mortality among married men, between the same ages, is only 18 per cent. As life advances the dif ference becomes even more striking. Where forty-one bachelors attain the age of 40 there are seventy-eight married men, a difference of nearly two to one in favor of the latter. At the age of 60 there are forty-eight married men to twenty-two bachelors; at 70, eleven bachelors to twenty-seven married men; and at 80, nine married men to three bachelors. It is not known that any bachelor ever lived to be a hundred years old. THE PRIZE TREATISE ON THEISM.-In our book notices of last month we adverted briefly to the volume, republished by the Messrs. Carter, of this city, to which was awarded the second prize. Of Mr. Thompson's work, which received the first premium, we have the following verdict in the London Athenæum of July 28: "These words, construed in a wide and liberal sense, comprehend the whole question between the Theist and the Atheist :-Is there a Deity, or can the phenomena of the universe be otherwise accounted for? The essayist, as it seems to us, was bound to answer this question. Mr. Thompson shirks it: "The nature of our inquiry does not lead us to speak of the existence of the Supreme Being as a truth which can reasonably be called in question. It is a truth as natural to the mind as the existence of itself or of an outward world, and cannot be represented as doubtful but by the same [?] audacity of skepticism. We are to inquire, then, How do we come by the knowledge of Him which we believe ourselves to have, and how can we be reflectively assured of its validity.'" "The existence of a Deity, it will be seen, is taken for granted, and doubters are branded at once as audacious and unreasonable skeptics. Assuredly this was not the meaning of Mr. Burnett. Certainly he would not have fixed a prefatory stigma upon those whose ignorance or mental peculiarities lead them into the position of doubters. His object was to satisfy the minds of such persons; to address them in kind words of soberness and wisdom, which should have the effect of leading them into what he would esteem a better state of thought. Mr. Thompson, it will be seen, at once takes for granted the very point that may be in dispute, and denounces all who differ from him. Having done this-and consequently repelled from the consideration of his book the persons whom it was desired to benefit-he proceeds to inquire into the evidence. And the evidence, let it be remarked, of what? The evidence of a truth-our conviction of which, he tells us, is not dependent upon the arguments of natural theology, the conclusions of reason, or the assurances of Revelation, but is innate and spontaneous, as clear to the mind as the existence of itself or of the outer world. This, we must think, is a very erroneous mode of treating the matter. Inquiry is pronounced needless-the thing in question is declared indisputable-doubters are sentenced as sudacious skeptics; but Mr. Burnett has offered a prize, and, therefore, we will inquire. A book written on such a system should have been rejected by the judges as standing outside the pale of competition." WEEKLY RELIGIOUS PRESS OF LONDON.-The principal religious weekly papers in London are as follows:-The Record, which writes against the Episcopal Church, and is not considered as very sound in orthodoxy, has the greatest circulation-7,700. The Guardian (4,000) is the organ of the Gladstonians and Puseyites; the Non-Conformist (3,600)—almost a political paper-that of the Dissenters; British Banner, liberal; Watchman, (3,300,) the organ of the Wesleyan Methodists; the Wesleyan Times, (2,400,) organ of the radical Wesleyans; the Patriot (2,400) writes against Church-taxes and Episcopal authority; the English Churchman (1,300) defends the Established Church; the Catholic Standard (1,500) is, since the removal of the Tablet to Dublin, the leading organ of the ultramontane party. VACCINATION. A Paris physician has just published a pamphlet with the title of "The Physical and Moral Degeneration of the Human Race caused by Vaccination." The startling theory that Jenner, who for more than half a century has enjoyed the reputation of being one of the greatest benefactors of humanity that ever existed, was in fact the principal author of cholera and a host of modern diseases, has been broached before, but without exciting much serious attention. Now, however, the Imperial Academy of Medicine have placed the subject on their programme for dis cussion. FELINE CLOCKS.-M. Huc, in his recent work on the Chinese Empire, tells us that "one day, when we went to pay a visit to some families of Chinese Christian peasants, we met, near a farm, a young lad, who was taking a buffalo to graze along our path. We asked him carelessly, as we passed, whether it was yet noon. The child raised his head to look at the sun, but it was hidden behind thick clouds, and he could read no answer there. The sky is so cloudy,' said he, but wait a moment;' and with these words he ran toward the farm, and came back a few minutes afterward with a cat in his arms. 'Look here,' said he, it is not noon yet;' and he showed us the cat's eyes, by pushing up the lids with his hands. We looked at the child with surprise, but he was evidently in earnest; and the cat, though astonished, and not much pleased at the experiment made on her eyes, behaved with most exemplary complaisance. Very well,' said we, thank you;' and he then let go the cat, who made her escape pretty quickly, and we continued our route. To say the truth, we had not at all understood the proceeding; but we did not wish to question the little pagan, lest he should find out that we were Europeans by our ignorance. As soon as ever we reached the farm, however, we made haste to ask our Christians whether they could tell the clock by looking into a cat's eyes. They seemed surprised at the question; but as there was no danger in confessing to them our ignorance of the properties of the cat's eyes, we related what had just taken place. That was all that was necessary; our complaisant neophytes immediately gave chase to all the cats in the neighborhood. They brought us three or four, and explained in what manner they might be made use of for watches. They pointed out that the pupil of their eyes went on constantly growing narrower until twelve o'clock, when they became like a fine line, as thin as a hair, drawn perpendicularly across the eye, and that after twelve the dilation recommenced. When we had attentively examined the eyes of all the cats at our disposal, we came to the conclusion that it was past noon, as all the eyes perfectly agreed upon the point." WORDSWORTH.-A striking trait in the character of the celebrated poet was his utter inability to understand the slightest approach to a joke; even when explained to him, he would feel uneasy, and put it on a logical rack. With him everything was absolutely true or absolutely false; he made no allowance for pleasantry, badinage, persiflage, or even playfulness; he took everything literally. A young lady, an intimate friend of his, relates a ludicrous instance of the embarrassments this occasionally led to. Being on a visit to the lakes for the first time, the old poet took great pride in showing her all his pet spots and finest views. They were, consequently, out very often for hours and hours together. At an evening party, the niece of Lady F- (whose grounds join the bard's garden,) in the gayety of girlhood, said to the poet: "I saw you this morning, Mr. Wordsworth, before any body was up, flirting with my aunt on the lawn; and then how slily you stole away by the back entrance." This alluded to a gate made to save the détour of going into the road. The words had scarcely passed the giddy girl's lips, ere she became painfully aware that she had committed some tremendous crime. Wordsworth looked distressed and solemn at his wife; his wife looked muffled thoughts at her daughter, Miss Wordsworth, and then they all three looked at each other, as though holding a silent conclave. Inspiration and speech came to the poet first. ing solemnly round, he said, emphatically: "After the remark just made, it is of course necessary that I should reply. Miss C-—, you are young and lovely; you have been alone with me repeatedly in solitary spots, and I now put it to you if I have ever acted toward you in a manner unbecoming a gentleman and a Christian?" The lady, thus appealed to, could scarcely refrain from roaring with laughter, but thought it best to answer in accordance with the spirit of the question; and having considerable tact, she managed to patch this "awful matter up! A damper, however, had fallen on the meeting, and it ended drearily. Turn "TRINITY."-Our correspondent, a very intelligent and wealthy layman, who questioned the good taste of thus designating a second church in this city, was aware that the new edifice is to be called "Trinity M. E. Church." His idea was that it would have been betternames being as plenty as blackberries-to have selected an appellation that would not have required the perpetual addition of the letters M. E.," or the words which those letters indicate. Our correspondent may be a little too fastidious; but that again is a mere matter of opinion, which it is scarcely worth while to discuss. We may add, however, for the information of those who have taken unnecessary offense at his suggestion, that he is very far from having any feelings of hostility to the new enterprise. 66 MEMOIR OF THE LATE AMOS LAWRENCE.— Our Boston correspondent, in a letter for the whole of which we have not room, informs us that "In answer to repeated requests from individuals and from public associations, a memoir, prepared by his son, has been published, and has already commenced its important and promising mission among the young merchants of our land. It presents a noble model, at once exciting a manly ambition, teaching a strict business morality and the fear of God, inspiring the highest form of public enterprise and philanthropy, and inculcating and illustrating the high trust and office of wealth. A touching interest invests the volume as it issues from the press. While the last pages are being placed in types, the bells are tolling, and signs of public sympathy are everywhere exhibited, for the death of the well-known brother of its subject-Abbott Lawrence, the merchant, embassador, and favorite citizen of Boston. A bond of remarkable affection bound the brothers together during their lives, and in death they were not long separated. In 1808 Abbott entered the store of Amos, on Cornhill, a few doors from the place where this letter is written, then a boy of sixteen, with a fortune something less than three dollars in his pocket. A first-rate business lad he was,' says his shrewd and generous brother, but, like other bright lads, he needed the careful eye of a senior to guard him from the pitfalls that he was exposed to.' This 'careful eye' he had, always beaming with fraternal affection upon him. The secret of the unenvied fame of the two brothers is to be found (so it seems to us) in the spirit that indited the following letter, and the noble illustra tion of it in their lives. "Merchants that could write and receive such letters need no special and modified code of business morals; a higher law was written upon their hearts, and with its high behests they ever sought to bring themselves into harmony. The letter was written just after the war, in March, 1815, upon the eve of Abbott's sailing in the first vessel after the declaration of peace for the purchase of goods in England. He had now become a partner with his brother, and in the letter of business instructions from the senior member of the firm we read these golden words: "MY DEAR BROTHER,-I have thought best, before you go abroad, to suggest a few hints for your benefit in your intercourse with the people among whom you are going. As a first and leading principle, let every transaction be of that pure and honest character that you would not be ashamed to have appear before the whole world as clearly as to yourself. In addition to the advantages arising from an honest course of conduct with your fellow-men, there is the satisfaction of reflecting within yourself that you have endeavored to do your duty; and, however greatly the best may fall short of doing all they ought, they will be sure not to do more than their principles enjoin. It is, therefore, of the highest consequence that you should not only cultivate correct principles, but that you should place your standard of action so high as to require great vigilance in living up to it. In regard to your business transactions, let everything be so registered in your books, that any person, without difficulty, can understand the whole of your concerns. You may be cut off in the midst of your pursuits, and it is of no small consequence that your temporal affairs should always be so arranged that you may be in readiness.'. "In 1847, impressed with the importance of securing the higher culture of mechanics, and providing opportunities for instruction in natural science, and in the application of science to the arts, suggested doubtless by his personal connection with the great manufacturing interests of the country, as well as by his own far-reaching good sense, Abbott Lawrence made his princely donation of fifty thousand dollars to Harvard College, to found a scientific school. What says the judicious brother to this, who thought the first-rate business' lad needed the eye of a senior to guard him? Let us read what he said, for his words are as 'apples of gold in pictures of silver:' "DEAR BROTHER ABBOTT,-I hardly dare trust myself to speak what I feel, and therefore write a word to say that I thank God I am spared to this day to see accomplished by one so near and dear to me, this last best work ever done by one of our name, which will prove a better title to true nobility than any from the potentates of the world. It is more honorable, and more to be coveted, than the highest political station in our country, purchased as these stations often are by time-serving. It is to impress on unborn millions the great truth that our talents are trusts committed to us for use, and to be accounted for when the Master calls. This magnificent plan is the great thing that you will see carried out, if your life is spared; and you may well cherish it as the thing nearest your heart. It enriches your descendants in a way that mere money never can do, and is a better investment than any one you have ever made,' "One hardly knows which to admire the most, the noble gift, or the noble sentiment. Boston has a right to be proud of such citizens, and it is but proper selfrespect that induces her to drape her flags with funeral crape, and toll her bells when they rest from their earthly labors." MAUD, the last publication of the poet laureate, is not highly eulogized by the critics in England. The Literary Gazette says:— "If Mr. Tennyson had his fame to make, there can be little doubt that Maud' would not make it. That it is better than any other writer of the time could produce, and stamped with the unmistakable impress of his genius, is certain; but it is not less certain that 'Maud must take rank below the Princess,' and many others of his earlier poems. The story is not happy. It is at once hackneyed and commonplace, painful and incomplete. A tale of secret love, ending in a discovery of stealthy interviews, a duel, madness, and death, requires very exquisite treatment to reconcile us to incidents so worn, and passions so spasmodic as are their natural issue. Tennyson's genius, indeed, makes us bear with what in the hands of most writers would create merely a sense of weariness; but it does so in spite of the story, and not through it. Having failed in the great essential of a poem, a well-selected subject, the poet dismisses his reader with a tingled feeling, in which disappointment forms a large part. In subtile beauty of detail, in the strength and purity of the passion, the play of fancy, the perfect finish of the verse, nothing is left to be desired; but the sense of completeness, and of a large purpose thoroughly wrought out, is wanting." The Athenæum gives the volume a more deliberate review, with quotations, and winds up by saying "This volume is not worthy of its author. Not a few lines, even in the passages we have quoted, are singularly harsh, broken, and unmusical. Less of finish is observable in the structure and emendation of the verse. Less of brightness in the fancy-less of tenderness in the pathos-less of quaintness in the thought-are also noticeable. Yet there are also, as we have shown, occasional sweetness of line-originality of conception-characteristic dreaminess of movement, and individual color in the poetry of "Maud." We rank Mr. Tennyson's muse so high that we unwillingly receive from her any song which is less than perfect." APT QUOTATION.-Lord John Russell, in a speech before the British House of Commons, alluding to his own retirement from office, indulged in the following poetic bitterness: "Those you make friends And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The least rub in your fortunes, fall away Like water from ye, never found again But when they mean to sink ye." CURIOUS CALCULATION.-What a noisy creature would a man be were his voice, in proportion to his weight, as loud as that of a locust! A locust can be heard at the distance of onesixteenth of a mile. The golden wren is said to weigh but half an ounce, so that a middlingsized man would weigh down not short of four thousand of them; and it must be strange if a golden wren would not outweigh four of our locusts. Supposing, therefore, that a common man weighed as much as sixteen thousand of our locusts, and that the note of a locust can |